Day 5 Lockdown. Windy Wheeze.

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Awoke at some point in the night to the sound of a muffled and very disgruntled meow. Fuzzy memory of turning and pushing a large lump of duvet over the edge of the bed..... pretty sure kitty went with it - thank goodness for super king duvets which hopefully softened the shove.
Have another fuzzy moment as people seem to like the ol' diary - then remember have a fun day of housework (How in a crisis where I'm housebound do I still have housework at weekends?)- again and so proceed to procrastinate instantly,
Take a cycle ride out with the Little Lodger as part of our exercise/boredom regimen. Both wildly optimistic and I don exercise lycra especially - then realise that lycra is more transparent than I thought and hope I made a good pant choice today. Ten mins in secretly think that this isn't our best plan. Wind slaps us in the face (actual wind, not our own) and start to worry that wheezing means Corona virus is only a breath away. Return home trying not to fall off bike with each windy gust (actual wind, not ours). Pass a local shop, crane my next to see if they have loo roll. Hoof stuff around in shed to get bike in - hope this earns me a shiny sticker at Fat Club.
Friend send me a tutorial of art on blank loo roll innards. Creative me thinks yay. Cynical me thinks do we need another piss artist?
I look at jobs to do when the urge for a microwave seems very urgent after 7 years of not having one. (No decision made - like to leave a little procrastination for another day). Nadiya the TV cook keeps me company extolling the virtues of old avocados as a pasta sauce. Can also make pasta with semolina. I have a pack 3 years past it's best and an old brown avo. Nadiya, you can see my soul. Make mental note that all TV narrators have started talking about storecupboard food. Enjoy the barbs about millionaire TV chefs preaching budget on Twitter. Snigger.
Glue to social media - I've never had such a busy social life (neither has anyone else) - read some article in Guardian about Italy watching us do what they did. Sounds terrifying. Make cup of tea to feel Britishly better about it all. Gleefully accept large parcels of books then realise I've knackered the 'It lives on card ' fact and instantly start sanitising hands - clean bathroom and hope that any germs I 'earn' will have a scrap with Corona.
5.30 PASSES. I repeat 5.30 passes and I've procrastinated through. Mentally apologies to my crew of two who I see each day and promise deities I will be a better person and remember tomorrow. Just in case, I ask Alexa to remind me.
Settle to watch film. Realise have contracted another 21 century virus - inability to focus for more than 20 minutes. Decide if we're all going to hell in a handbasket will watch 90's films (the joys of those halcyon days). The first 10 minutes are a blood bath so eat Italian desserts and decide to see if I can push the Bengal off the bed again instead.

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